The Street Poem by John Molloy

The streets aren't narrow
for the Mall's so long
the scope's too wide for Granny.
Molly's dead and the fish are frozen,
idolized in bronze a mile away.
Financial appeal did fill thy breasts.

'3 for 50,5 for a pound,
the freshest fruit gather 'round.
Mushrooms on special, peppers too;
Here ya' are Mam - a pound to you.
come over here love, don't be shy,
ya' can have a feel but, not a try.'

Henry's end of Hector's street's
awash with faces new
serve by the carriage loyal.
Roache's echoing cries amix
the crowd to baffle still.
Each the peddlers' ware to lift.

'A pound a bunch the fresh carnations
for loved ones, birthdays, celebrations;
And roses too I have today
With ribbons ready - on display
but, daffodils prefer ya' might,
the good 'aul favourite - Ma's delight.'

Caple street - the tailors' pride
was sown with oh few seeds,
now banks do leap the frog.
And Mary street - the dealers choice,
trap and thurafare
sees change too great - expensive.

'4 for 50 the chocolate pies, the Mars bars 3,
a pounds worth of Kitkats - get one free.
Bags of sweets togather or lose,
Cans of Pepsi or orange juice.
Quickly now, I can't delay
the poxy sergeant's on his way.'